Beautiful Joe [48]
fast on my brown coat.
The gentleman had spoken very loudly, and every one in the room had listened to
what he said. Among them, was a very young man, with a cold, handsome face. He
looked as if he was annoyed that the older man should have made Miss Laura cry.
"Don't you think, sir," he said, as the old gentleman passed near him in walking
up and down the floor, "that there is a great deal of mock sentiment about this
business of taking care of the dumb creation? They were made for us. They've got
to suffer and be killed to supply our wants. The cattle and sheep, and other
animals would over-run the earth, if we didn't kill them."
"Granted," said the old man, stopping right in front of him. "Granted, young
man, if you take out that word suffer. The Lord made the sheep, and the cattle,
and the pigs. They are his creatures just as much as we are. We can kill them,
but we've no right to make them suffer."
"But we can't help it, sir."
"Yes, we can, my young man. It's a possible thing to raise healthy stock, treat
it kindly, kill it mercifully, eat it decently. When men do that I, for one,
will cease to be a vegetarian. You're only a boy. You haven't traveled as I
have. I've been from one end of this country to the other. Up north, down south,
and out west, I've seen sights that made me shudder, and I tell you the Lord
will punish this great American nation if it doesn't change its treatment of the
dumb animals committed to its care."
The young man looked thoughtful, and did not reply. A very sweet-faced old lady
sitting near him answered the old gentleman. I don't think I have ever seen such
a fine-looking old lady as she was. Her hair was snowy white, and her face was
deeply wrinkled, yet she was tall and stately, and her expression was as
pleasing as my dear Miss Laura's.
"I do not think we are a wicked nation," she said, softly. "We are a younger
nation than many of the nations of the earth, and I think that many of our sins
arise from ignorance and thoughtlessness."
"Yes, madame, yes, madame," said the fiery old gentleman, staring hard at her.
"I agree with you there."
She smiled very pleasantly at him and went on. "I, too, have been a traveler,
and I have talked to a great many wise and good people on the subject of the
cruel treatment of animals, and I find that many of them have never thought
about it. They, themselves, never knowingly ill-treat a dumb creature, and when
they are told stories of inhuman conduct, they say in surprise, 'Why, these
things surely can't exist!' You see they have never been brought in contact with
them. As soon as they learn about them, they begin to agitate and say, 'We must
have this thing stopped. Where is the remedy?'"
"And what is it, what is it, madame, in your opinion?" said the old gentleman,
pawing the floor with impatience.
"Just the remedy that I would propose for the great evil of intemperance," said
the old lady, smiling at him. "Legislation and education. Legislation for the
old and hardened, and education for the young and tender. I would tell the
schoolboys and schoolgirls that alcohol will destroy the framework of their
beautiful bodies, and that cruelty to any of God's living creatures will blight
and destroy their innocent young souls."
The young man spoke again. "Don't you think," he said, "that you temperance and
humane people lay too much stress upon the education of our youth in all lofty
and noble sentiments? The human heart will always be wicked. Your Bible tells
you that, doesn't it? You can't educate all the badness out of children."
"We don't expect to do that," said the old lady, turning her pleasant face
toward him; "but even if the human heart is desperately wicked, shouldn't that
make us much more eager to try to educate, to ennoble, and restrain? However, as
far as my experience goes, and I have lived in this wicked world for seventy-
five years, I find that the human heart, though wicked and cruel, as you say,
has yet some soft and tender
The gentleman had spoken very loudly, and every one in the room had listened to
what he said. Among them, was a very young man, with a cold, handsome face. He
looked as if he was annoyed that the older man should have made Miss Laura cry.
"Don't you think, sir," he said, as the old gentleman passed near him in walking
up and down the floor, "that there is a great deal of mock sentiment about this
business of taking care of the dumb creation? They were made for us. They've got
to suffer and be killed to supply our wants. The cattle and sheep, and other
animals would over-run the earth, if we didn't kill them."
"Granted," said the old man, stopping right in front of him. "Granted, young
man, if you take out that word suffer. The Lord made the sheep, and the cattle,
and the pigs. They are his creatures just as much as we are. We can kill them,
but we've no right to make them suffer."
"But we can't help it, sir."
"Yes, we can, my young man. It's a possible thing to raise healthy stock, treat
it kindly, kill it mercifully, eat it decently. When men do that I, for one,
will cease to be a vegetarian. You're only a boy. You haven't traveled as I
have. I've been from one end of this country to the other. Up north, down south,
and out west, I've seen sights that made me shudder, and I tell you the Lord
will punish this great American nation if it doesn't change its treatment of the
dumb animals committed to its care."
The young man looked thoughtful, and did not reply. A very sweet-faced old lady
sitting near him answered the old gentleman. I don't think I have ever seen such
a fine-looking old lady as she was. Her hair was snowy white, and her face was
deeply wrinkled, yet she was tall and stately, and her expression was as
pleasing as my dear Miss Laura's.
"I do not think we are a wicked nation," she said, softly. "We are a younger
nation than many of the nations of the earth, and I think that many of our sins
arise from ignorance and thoughtlessness."
"Yes, madame, yes, madame," said the fiery old gentleman, staring hard at her.
"I agree with you there."
She smiled very pleasantly at him and went on. "I, too, have been a traveler,
and I have talked to a great many wise and good people on the subject of the
cruel treatment of animals, and I find that many of them have never thought
about it. They, themselves, never knowingly ill-treat a dumb creature, and when
they are told stories of inhuman conduct, they say in surprise, 'Why, these
things surely can't exist!' You see they have never been brought in contact with
them. As soon as they learn about them, they begin to agitate and say, 'We must
have this thing stopped. Where is the remedy?'"
"And what is it, what is it, madame, in your opinion?" said the old gentleman,
pawing the floor with impatience.
"Just the remedy that I would propose for the great evil of intemperance," said
the old lady, smiling at him. "Legislation and education. Legislation for the
old and hardened, and education for the young and tender. I would tell the
schoolboys and schoolgirls that alcohol will destroy the framework of their
beautiful bodies, and that cruelty to any of God's living creatures will blight
and destroy their innocent young souls."
The young man spoke again. "Don't you think," he said, "that you temperance and
humane people lay too much stress upon the education of our youth in all lofty
and noble sentiments? The human heart will always be wicked. Your Bible tells
you that, doesn't it? You can't educate all the badness out of children."
"We don't expect to do that," said the old lady, turning her pleasant face
toward him; "but even if the human heart is desperately wicked, shouldn't that
make us much more eager to try to educate, to ennoble, and restrain? However, as
far as my experience goes, and I have lived in this wicked world for seventy-
five years, I find that the human heart, though wicked and cruel, as you say,
has yet some soft and tender